


A Losing Game

by rosaloves



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Good Draco Malfoy, One Shot, Redeemed Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28273776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosaloves/pseuds/rosaloves
Summary: A series of different Dramoine One-Shots.There are fluffly, toxic and dramatic ones so each to their own.(Always open for some requests)
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. Hogwarts Battle

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly Dramione TikTok ruined the song 'Arcade' by Duncan Laurence for me. Can't listen to it anymore without thinking of Dramione. And I love it.  
> (You should listen to it reading this btw thx.)
> 
> So this a new series of different Dramione one-shots that just sometimes visit me in my thoughts and make me cry bc they're not canon.

“Draco,” he hears him hiss. “Draco, come here.”  
But Draco seems to have lost the ability to function, because he is _still just standing there_.

All eyes, dead or alive, are on him now. Frozen in despair, he looks over at his peers in hopes of someone telling him what to do. No one moves and no one speaks, all they do is watch him.  
_‘Of course_ ,’ he thinks. ‘ _They expect me to go.’  
_Not one of his classmates ask him to stay, not one of them steps forward to even _try_ to convince him to fight on their side.

On the other side, his father gets nervous.  
“Draco! Boy, come here!” The hisses seem angrier now, but Draco’s eyes are fixed on his mother. Her lips are trembling and the spark of fear is bright in her eyes. Never has he seen his mother in such a fear like now.  
Could he do that to her? Could he betray his mother and leave her alone with the bad?  
But why does she want him there? Why would a mother want her son to be in the hands of death?  
That, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that there are tears in her eyes, and as hard as she might try to conceal the nerviness on her face, he sees her wall crumbling.

 _So this is it,_ he thinks.

His feet barely leave the ground, as he decides to make his way towards the Dark Lord, when a warm hand sneaks around his wrist.

“Don’t,” she says and a shiver runs through his body. Her voice sounds stern, like a warning, but he can hear it. He can hear the uncertainty and desperation in her voice and it cracks something in his chest. “You know what you want. This isn’t it.”

Her hand loosens the grip on his wrist and her slim fingers glide down and between his. A soft squeeze from her and the feeling of her shoulder brushing against his sides is enough. When he breathes in, he can smell the scent of her perfume and makes out the brown of her curls at his right side.

She is right. He knows what he wants. This isn’t it.

He thinks of the late nights, hurled between sheets, naked skin on naked skin, and delicate whispers against their mouths. Her hand on his chest, tracing the pattern of his heart because she loves to talk about it. She loves to talk him soft, make him seem better than he is but he knows he isn’t. She loves to remind him that he is human, that people make mistakes and are sometimes not entirely at fault.

He thinks of hushing shadows in the halls, searching for empty rooms to make love. He loves the way she clings to him whilst it, as if he is the only thing on this world keeping her safe. He loves how she breathes out his name when she’s overwhelmed and about to reach her climax, grasping at his back and leaving her mark.  
There is a lot to love about Hermione Granger, but is she worth losing his family and his whole existence?

He thinks of them fighting, most of the times about his family. He thinks about the way her hands would ball into fists and her face would turn red. He thinks about the way she doesn’t look at him in the Great Hall or anywhere else someone could find out. He thinks about the way she would hang around with Potter and the Weasel, ignoring him in fear of being uncovered.

When he looks down at her though, he sees her pained smile and the determination in those eyes. Her look is different than that of his classmates.  
She doesn’t expect him to go. She is gripping his hand in front of everyone to see. And his heart explodes.

Yes, there is a lot to love and hate about Hermoine Granger, and he wouldn’t exchange it for all the money in the world.

So here he stands, hands intertwined with Hogwarts’ Golden Girl, and the rage in his father’s eyes almost allures him to change his mind. But he stands still, side by side with her to fight. The fear pushed aside, he braces his shoulders and squeezes her hand back.  
He thinks he might regret it later, might be tortured and killed, but somehow it doesn’t really spark any physical reaction.

 _‘Start making your own decisions,’_ she would say, nakedly flushed against him.

 _‘Stop fighting for something that’s not there’,_ he would counter.

_‘Never.’_

Voldemort’s laugh is loud and sends a shiver through everyone’s body.

Longbottom draws the sword.

Harry Potter rises from the dead.

Smoke fills the air, walls around them crumbling down, a lifeless body lying on the ground.  
He knows they have won.

Draco just hopes his mother will understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some feedback would be nice but it's okay if you're too lazy to do that, I get that no worries lol.


	2. Meltdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has a meltdown and tries to scare Hermione off

He throws a vase against the door and kicks a chair a few feet away.  
Hermione flinches, hands tittering and the wand in her back pocket burning to be used.

“Draco, calm down! What happened?”

Another scream rips from his mouth at the sound of her voice and she gasps as something flies from his hand and misses her by just an inch. With a slow turn of her head, she sees his wand stuck on the wall, right next to her eyes.

She doesn’t know what happened, one minute they were walking around the forest hand in hand, and the next minute Draco flinched and apparated away with a curse leaving his mouth.  
She didn’t know why she was suddenly standing alone in the beautiful snow in the middle of their favorite forest, but she was. Maybe it was his family, she thought. Maybe they called him.  
There was a bad feeling surging up in her body at that thought and she only hoped he would be fine.  
So not wanting to stand there like an idiot waiting for him, she went back to their small abandoned cottage and started preparing a meal. She thought she would make his return pleasant with a freshly cooked dinner and two cups of hot chocolate. It would be fine, she thought.

But then he came back, didn’t say a word and just slammed the creaky door of the bathroom. It was quiet and Hermione didn’t know what to say, how to approach him, so she waited until there was a glass breaking sound. With a gasp she hurried to pry the door open and saw him there – hunched over the sink, a shattered mirror barely hanging on the wall and blood from his fist dripping down on the woodened floor.

She tried to heal it, but he refused. He aggressively ripped his hands away and stormed past her to the small living room. Ever since then he’s been crashing things against the walls, destroying the vases and flowers they brought to make it seem cozier. He was destroying everything they built in their shaggy cottage.

So now, whilst looking at his wand just barely missing her head, she turns to look at him again. It’s quiet now, their breathing and the beating of her heart drowning out every other noise from outside. His eyes are bloodshot, wide and broken.

“I didn’t- ,” his voice is barely a croak. “I didn’t mean to-“

“I know,” she interrupts him and moves slowly forwards to him.

He shakes his head and his lips tremble as he moves backwards, trying to get as much distance between them as possible.

“I destroy everything.” His eyes are closed now and he thumps against the wall before he slides down onto the floor. “I destroy everything. I destroy everything. I destroy everything.” He chants and Hermione’s eyes well up. She has no idea what’s going on.

“Stop it Draco,” with shaky legs she manages to kneel down to him and places a comforting but cautious hand on his knee. “You don’t destroy everything. What happened?”

He sobs once more before drawing in a deep breath and prying her hands off of him.  
“Go away.”

“What?”

His voice is dull and cold. “Go away, now.”  
When she doesn’t budge, he aggressively grabs her elbow and forces her to stand. “I said _leave_.”  
She yanks away her arm and tries to analyze the situation. Something bad happened when he went, but she couldn’t figure out what. His tantrums aren’t new to her; she’s been dealing with them ever since they met in their first year at Hogwarts. Most of them die down after a couple of hours of him sulking in a corner, but some are heavy and take time. Those, for example, concerning his family. It wasn’t often that he visited his family, but when he did he always came back in a rage that controlled every action of his.  
Being wanted for crimes his family committed, not he himself, is the disturbingly usual business for Draco. Every single move his father makes automatically pulls Draco in it as well, and he is used to it because it’s always been like that; his father’s actions representing the family. And the fact that Lucius Malfoy just recently murdered one of the highest ranking ministers of the Ministry of Magic laid a bounty on the heads of the entire Malfoy family; Lucius, Narcissa and Draco.  
But of course, the side of the coin that shows the minister raising his wand against an unarmed Draco isn’t wanted. _The Prophet_ called the killing an ‘act of power’ as Lucius Malfoy simply wanted to represent his power and strength. They didn’t call it what it really was; a father saving his only son’s life.

So, this is a hard time for Malfoy and his parents. Lucius and Narcissa had to separate in hopes of not attracting any attention and Draco was forced to hide in an abandoned, old cottage. Hermione thinks it’s quite comfortable when you put a couple of cushions here and there, a little bit of color with some flowers and candles smelling like cinnamon and vanilla. But then again, she has the liberty to go back to her warm and cozy Gryffindor bed, he doesn’t.

“Are you fucking deaf Granger?! Leave!”  
He is yelling now, his head as red as his eyes and a vein popping out of his neck.

“No,” she says calmly and hopes that he will follow. But he doesn’t. He shoves her away and towards the door when she tries to fight against him. “Stop it! What happened to you? Stop it!”

She is wrestling to get out of his grip, but he has both arms wrapped around her and easily lifts her up to carry her outside the door. Trashing and screaming doesn’t help, he still manages to throw her out, and when she is lying on the ground, between dried leaves and fresh mud, her rage grows.

“If you don’t tell me what the hell happened – “

“I destroy everything! Everyone dies because of me, everything is my fault and I don’t want to _live_ with that anymore! Just _leave_ , Granger…” his voice fades and the begging in it makes her shudder. But as fast as it came, it went and his voice turned cold. “This is over.”

Her eyes squint in irritation. “What?”

“This is over. You and me. I don’t want you here anymore.”

“You can’t be serious Draco what – “

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He snarls. “You mean nothing to me – never did and never will. All of this was just a way of wasting my boring time – “

“Stop it, you don’t mean tha – “

“– trapped in an old cottage like a prisoner. I had nothing better to do than wrap you around my finger – “

“Draco, I know what you’re trying to do just sto – “

“– and even _that_ didn’t take me much time. I guess you were just waiting for it, waiting for a guy to come around and fuck you because not even fucking Weasley wanted you –

“If you don’t stop talking right now I’ll – “

“– but I’m so glad that this is over now because I can’t bear your presence anymore. Can’t bear your annoying voice, your horrible laugh and that filthy body – “

She gasps and her lips tremble. She knows what he’s doing, and he’s doing it good. Malfoy always knew how to push the right buttons, ever since they met in first year. But this hurts and it hurts _bad_.  
She was so caught up in focusing to let his words repel on her that she didn’t notice his hands trembling. All she could register were those cold eyes and harsh words coming out of the mouth she loves to kiss. A mouth that can drive her insane with just a touch.

“Thank you for your entertainment, this was _really_ fun, but it ends now.”

Hermione Jean Granger is a Gryffindor. She is brave, loyal and proud. She never holds back what she’s thinking and for some it might be a flaw, but that’s one of her characteristics that actually define her. She doesn’t shy away, she doesn’t let her pride take over – she simply fights until she wins.

But Hermione Jean Granger is also just a girl. She has her insecurities and her limits until she breaks down. Only a couple of months before she was also still a virgin and bookworm, hoping for her best friend to finally notice his feelings for her. But when she ran into him and Lavender Brown kissing, her heart shattered and she believed to undergo her first heartbreak.  
When she was found crying in the girl’s restroom, it was by none other than Draco Malfoy. Thinking he’d laugh at her and tell everyone, she yelled at him to leave. But to her surprise, the young man just walked over to her, tucked his handkerchief out and placed it on her lap.  
“You can do better, Granger” was all he said before he left a confused girl alone on the floor of a restroom. Up until then, the irritation for the blond haired boy left and was replaced with a growing fondness over the years.

So as she is standing here; covered in mud and tears she hadn’t noticed before, insulted by the man she grew to love, there is only one thing she could do.  
Hermione Jean Granger swallows back the words bubbling to come out and counts slowly to five before she opens her mouth.

“What you are saying right now is not how you feel. I know you, Draco.” She takes a step towards. “I know almost every little thing about you, because the only thing I’ve been doing the last years was _analyzing_ you. That’s what I do best and you know it.”

She takes another step towards him and his jaw clenches. “I know you don’t mean what you said and I won’t let you kick me out like this.”

Step by step she is closer to him and finally notices his trembling hands and the sweat on his forehead. Harsh breaths are huffed out as he watches her coming closer.  
“You know nothing, Granger – “

“ _Wrong_ ,” she interrupts with a warning voice. “And you know it. So stop talking like this, stop pushing me away and finally realize that I am _here_ and I am here to stay and help you. Whatever happened, whatever it is, I am here and waiting to listen to it.”

Draco’s mouth feels dry and he is swallowing down a lump in his throat.  
“I’m sorr – “

“I know.”

“I don’t want to talk about it now.”

“Okay.”

When they walked back into the cottage, Hermione lit some scented candles and grabbed two books. Draco was already on the couch and she laid her back against his chest, handing him his book. Ten minutes into reading, Draco starts talking. One minute later he starts crying and her arms twine around his body.

It took them until five a.m. to finally go to sleep.

The next morning, when Hermione finds a freshly printed _The Prophet_ on the porch, she reads the headline and looks back at Draco sleeping on the bed.  
Without hesitation she throws the paper into the flames of their fireplace, the letters melting with the heat.

* * *

_*** BREAKING NEWS ***_  
  
NARCISSA MALFOY DEFEATED AND EXECUTED BY THE GREAT ORDER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk this was in my head all day so I had to write it down.
> 
> Happy for any kind of feedback.
> 
> Requests are open as well <3


	3. Sweet Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Mid-war. Hermione finds out she’s pregnant in the middle of a raging war.
> 
> Trigger warnings in end notes.

The first signs were pretty obvious, yet she never noticed.

For having the title Brightest Witch Of Her Age it took her quite some time to figure it out. More specifically; it took her so much time untilshe was almost in the second month of her pregnancy. Honestly though, the signs were pretty obvious. 

She would wake up in the middle of the night and run over to the bathroom to throw up. Every time Ron would come back with a hunted down animal, the smell of its burned skin would force her on her knees again, bent over the toilet. The fact that she was late with her period went unnoticed due to the stress she’d have; foraging the forests for ingredients, going on dangerous missions and being on alert 24/7. One time though, George made a joke about Hermione’s craving for chocolate and when she was about to blame it on her period it struck her.

Eventually she found herself alone in the bathroom with her wand analyzing her womb.

A small but golden ball of light shone out of her womb and she nearly fainted on the spot.

_ Pregnant _ , she thought.  _ Pregnant whilst the raging war. Pregnant for almost two months already! _

For days, she would contemplate telling him, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t know what he would say, think or do. Would he run? Would he tell her to abort? Would he be happy about it? Would he imagine himself with her and the baby?

She couldn’t know. She knew his body perfectly, every single curve and every single scar on his body. She would claim to know his characteristics on certain matters too, having experienced unbelievable and pretty intimate - emotional as well as sexual - situations. But on an important and great matter like this; she would admit she didn’t know how he would react.

On top of that, having a child mid-war would probably be the worst decision she had ever had. So many things could go wrong, she couldn’t fight alongside the others anymore and as cruel as it sounds: the baby would make her an easy target.

So she decided not to tell him. She decided to have an abortion.

But there was a light in her belly. A tiny, sweet, little fetus growing inside of her and once again Hermione was baffled by the human nature and its ways. A tiny human growing inside of her? Just wow. Crazy.

And as these thoughts haunt her mind, her hands would often drift absently down to her belly. They would lay there, connecting with this tiny thing inside of her, showing signs of protection and adoration. But the worst moments were when she was with him. When they would have an intimate togetherness - which they didn’t have often - and he would unknowingly stroke her body _-_ _ her stomach  _ _-_ and tell her how much he loved her. His hot breath tickling her neck, him inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, hands and heat loving every inch of her body.

I’m moments like these, she would almost give in and tell him. Moments like these are risky because a single touch of his lips on her lips and body would make her buckle. And he really liked devouring her with his lips.

But she managed to stand her ground. She didn’t tell him, even when he was supposed to go on a dangerous mission.  _ He will only worry and stay unfocused, _ she’d told herself.  _ I’ll tell him when he’s back safe and sound, _ she promised herself.

“Don’t die,” she told him, “come back to me.”

He was gone for two weeks when Hermione and the rest of the Ordner ran out of supplies. They had had enough for the time until now and it they often switched who would go out to forage next. This time it was Hermiones and Tonks turn.

They had a protocol to follow. Find a new unsuspicious forest; don’t stay too far apart from each other; be attentive about traps and immediately leave when succeeded.

It was easy and it almost never went wrong, but they still had to be careful. Death Eaters and Snatchers were everywhere lately and no matter how strong the Order’s protection wards were; they couldn’t allow any mistakes.

So Tonks and Hermione foraged like their Life depended on it - which it technically did - but when Hermione turned around to show her dear friend a rare medical flower she’d found, said friend wasn’t there anymore.

Hermione’s heart was running a marathon. She looked around, hissed out Tonks’ name in hope of only being heard by her but no answer came back.

There was a crack behind her and her wand hand shot up. The adrenaline she was feeling flooded her whole body. With tittering hands, Hermione slowly walked backwards. She had to find Tonks. Without her, she wouldn’t leave.

Thinking of her next move, Hermione took a deep breath. What could she do? What spell could she use to find T-“ Her thoughts were interrupted by a white strike of lightning crashing just little next to her feet.

From then on, everything went too fast. There were two Death Eaters, one holding Tonks captive with his wand on her neck and the other running closer to Hermione, throwing one spell after another.

Hermione blocked them all. It took a lot of strength, but seeing her friend in danger like this awoke an inexpressible surge of rage and protection in her.

With swift yet aggressive moves, she outsmarted the attacking Death Eater and stunned him. When he was lying on the floor, the other one threw Tonks harshly on the floor and struck her with a spell in her chest.

Meanwhile loud explosions were going off next to Hermione - charmed time bombs, she thought - and while she blocked every one of them, the other Death Eater walked closer.

In a matter of moments, Hermione was dueling him.

He was strong, she noticed, but he was too careless with his guard. She waited first and a couple of hits later she aimed for a particular weak spot she’d noticed during his attacks. He went down faster than than a teardrop and Hermione quickly rushed over to yank Tonks up. When she tried to apparate them away, nothing happened.  _ Anti-apparation wards, damn it.  _

She looked around and spotted the place they arrived at. Tonks arms were hanging loosely around Hermione’s neck while the poor girl coughed up blood. Hermione figured that their survival is up to her and her decisions now, so she takes a tighter grip on Tonks and pulls them over to the end of the anti-apparation wards. When Tonks’ arms repeatedly slipped off Hermione’s neck, she grunted in desperation and changed their positions.

She grabbed Tonks by one shoulder and threw it over her own for support.

“Just a couple more steps until the end of the apparation wards, come on,” she gasped and gave all her strength to pull them forward.

Tonks was coughing up blood, almost gurgling even, and for a second Hermione feared for her friend’s life. Only a couple more steps until —

— a heavy explosion flung them forward, just a little over the end of the wards, and before the masked Death Eater could grab them, Hermione struck a quick spell at him and apparated them back to the safe house.

A heavy thud filled the room as they fell on the wooden floor. Hermione almost took a second to groan when she heard Tonks painful gurgling reminding her of the urgency. She needed to get her a potion or a paste for her ribs. They must be fractured and one must have punctured her lung.

“I need help!” Hermione’s voice sounded hoarse but Fred, Harry, Moody and Padma were already running into the room.

“What happened?” Moody snapped as Harry and Fred lifted Tonks onto a table. Padma was quick to stun her so she wouldn’t strain her lungs more than she already did.

“We were almost done when Death Eaters came out of nowhere and attacked us,” Hermione panted and slumped back against a wall. “They hit her right on her chest - I don’t know what spell it was, everything was - it was too loud.” 

While Padma, Harry and Moody took care of Tonks, Fred turned to Hermione and checked her up and down. “Are you hurt? Did they hit you somewhere? Hermione- Hermione look at me!”

He grabbed her jaw and forced her eyes away from Tonks. When their eyes locked, she progressed his words. “No,” she breathed and peered quickly over to Tonks again.

He looked down at her and his eyes widened. “Shit, you’re bleeding. You were hit on your thigh- Hermione you need to take off your trousers, come on.” 

When Hermione looked down at herself she froze. There was blood on the right side of her thigh.

“Hermione,” Fred pushed her onto a chair and went to pull her trousers down. “I’m sorry, I know you’re in shock but we need to hurry-“

“No,” she was still panting and it felt like her heart would tear out of her chest any moment. “No, I - I need to -“ She didn’t finish her sentence and pried Fred’s hands off her to stumble into the bathroom. 

Before he could follow, Hermione locked the door and ripped her trousers down, glancing at her own reflection in the mirror. There were several hard knocks on the door and his muffled voice, yelling at her to open the door.

But Hermione wasn’t listening. Her golden eyes were fixated on the sticky blood on her inner thigh. Trembling hands were carefully laid on her stomach and a medical analyzing spell slid past her lips in a whisper. 

There was nothing. No golden ball of light.

Nothing was glowing on her stomach anymore, there was nothing but pure emptiness in it.

Fred was still yelling at her, trying to get her to open the door, but when she let out a gut wrenching scream, his voice and knocking stopped.

Her whole body was trembling and panic sobs left her mouth.

“Shit, go and tell him to come back- I can’t get her out!” Fred’s voice was muffled and she barely caught it because of her wailing.

It felt like hours sitting there on the bathroom floor, propped against the wall and crying, but later she heard it only took him two minutes to come back and bang on the door.

“Granger, open the door!” His fists were banging furiously against the door and at the sound of his voice her sobs only doubled.

Panic rose in her chest and she clenched her eyes shut again.  What would she tell him now? What would he say? Would he be mad she didn’t tell him sooner? Would he be glad it happened because now just wasn’t the right time?

There was more banging on the door and then it stopped. “Hermione,” his voice was soft now with an edge of panic. “Please open the door.”

She couldn’t ignore him forever. He didn’t know what was happening, for all he knew she could be lying on the bathroom floor in a puddle of her own blood and dying.

She couldn’t ignore him, so she let the guards down with a shaky motion of her wand. Not a single second later the door crashed open and he was there; next to her on the floor and holding her sobbing body.

His hands were running over her body, frantically searching for any damages.

“Shh,” he whispered and took a hold of her face. “What happened? Are you hurt? Weasley told me you’re bleeding.”

With her eyes still clenched shut, hearing him sent shivers down her spine. How could she tell him?

“Hey,” he tried again, “open your eyes. Come on, open your eyes for me.” 

And when she did that, he smiled at her. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his worried eyes. “Come on, let me check that you’re fine.”

When his hands went down to her zipper, she grabbed them. “Draco,” she whimpered, her voice hoarse from all the crying. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? What happened?” 

She shook her head and started crying again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“About what? Tell me what happened.”

Her eyes slowly rose to meet his. Those eyes she learned to love and read.

“I was pregnant,” she said and he froze. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t- I just thought this would be a bad timing to tell- I’m so sorry, Draco!” Everything came flooding and she couldn’t stop herself anymore. All the words, all the feelings she had suppressed before.

“When I found out I didn’t know what to do- I thought you might think that it’s too soon, that you wouldn’t want- I was so  scared to tell you because I couldn’t imagine how you’d react. I wanted to abort it, I wanted to get rid of it and pretend nothing ever happened but then I had these thoughts- Draco I imagined us, together, after the war with a beautiful house and a garden as big as-“ it looked like he wasn’t even listening anymore, so she stopped.

“Draco?” 

He swallowed and looked down at her stomach. Hesitantly, he reached forward and placed one hand over her navel.

“Howard are-“ he cleared his throat and swallowed again. “How far were you?”

“About two months,” she sniffled, clenching her eyes shut again. “I’m so sorry.”

His face looked paler than usual. It felt cold on her stomach when he took his hand away, but when it landed on her cheek, she was warm again.

“I’m sorry, Hermione.” She looked up at him in confusion. “I’m so sorry you had to go through these feelings alone. I wish I knew before, but it’s okay. You are in no obligation to apologize, you didn’t know this would happen.”

Hermione sobbed again and rested her head against his chest, his head on top of hers after he kissed her temple.

“I know you feel horrible and don’t want to do anything now,” he gripped her body tighter against his. “But we need to get you checked now, okay? I need to know for sure that you’re okay.”

When she gave in and nodded, he kissed her temple again and stood up to leave the bathroom. 

She heard him talking to someone and then Padma came inside. The sympathy in her face made Hermione want to crumble down and hide to cry alone. She didn’t want this, she didn’t want any of this.

“Hello Hermione,” Padma knees down to her level and places a hand on hers. “Can you lay down for a second so I can check you up?”

And as she was laying there with Padma muttering out some medical spells, Hermione thought of how it would be with a baby.

How different her life would be, how it could affect her relationship with Draco and how they would try to handle it all.

It was only logical not to have a baby in the middle of a war; there’s too much pressure and danger they have to go through. But still, thinking of having a small bundle of joy always waiting for you to come back and cuddle was somehow a beautifully warm thought. And it preyed on her mind.

She will have to wait for the end of the war. She will have wait and see how everything and everyone will change. Maybe she won’t want to have kids later, maybe the war would rot away every last big of happiness. Maybe she and Draco will notice that what they had wasn’t real, that it was just a survival instinct of holding onto someone. Someone who felt the same amount of loss and grief. Maybe their relationship wasn’t destined to go on forever.

Padma’s movement of standing up shook Hermione out of her thoughts and with one last empathic look, Padma left and Draco came in again.

She studied his face; obviously still shaken and in shock, but here he was taking care of her. Here he was cradling her up and putting her into the bathtub after removing her clothes. He leaves faint but loving kisses on every naked part of her body whilst undressing her. Shivers ran along her whole body, sighs leaving her mouth at the simple touch of his hands on her skin. 

_ No,  she thought,  _ this can’t be a survival instinct. _He is here because he loves me, and I love him._

“I love you,” he murmurs against her skin as if he heard her. “I love you so much, Granger. It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

When her clothes were removed, he tapped on the warm water and started undressing himself. No single bone on her body had the strength to look away from the body she’d seen so many times now. So many times in so many different situations and positions.

But every goddamn time it felt like the first time. Her pulse would still speed, the hair on her body would rise with shivers and her mouth would dry up.

_ He is so inhumanly beautiful, _ she’d think.

As he carefully placed himself behind her in the tub, his arms snaked around her body and his lips immediately found her neck again.

“I love you so much, it kills me seeing you in pain.”

“I’m sorry,” she tilted her head to give him more access. “I wish you would’ve known. Would have loved to see your reaction.”

“You want to know what my reaction would be?” He pressed her back tighter against his chest and kissed her shoulder blades. “I would have been bloody scared. Of course I’d be happy too - I mean it’s partly made of you so how couldn’t I -“ he chuckled and her lips twitched. “I think I definitely would have been scared to screw up, but the one thing keeping me strong would be the thought of you. You being there and stopping me from any mistakes. Honestly Granger I don’t know shit about children, but I would have learned them. I would have loved to have a little mini-us crawling around here.”

She was sobbing again and he slowly rocked her.

“But it’s okay, maybe it just wasn’t the right time. I know this sounds stupid and could come off the wrong way, but... losing it made me realize what I really want. I knew I want you, of course, but it really struck me and gave me another reason to fight and win this fucking war. We will win, and then we will go far, far away from all of this and have children. We’ll have our own little family without any of this shit right now.”

He kissed her cheek and placed his finger on her jaw, pushing her face to his direction. Her lips were plumb and half open, her eyes glistening with tears. He leaned down to lock their lips.

“Our time will come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: miscarriage


	4. Trapped together in the woods

It felt wrong, Draco thought. Somehow it felt wrong to feel hunger pinching his gut.  
He was used to go several days without eating, barely nibbling on an apple or a piece of meat, but he had never felt any indication of hunger until now.  
What had changed, he thought. What was so different now than before?

The answer was lying there in front of him, soft curls framing her delicate face. Her body was slumped into a foetal position with the blanket firmly tucked under her chin. She was the answer and he didn’t even care to convince himself otherwise.  
It didn’t take her much time to crawl under his skin, smart little Gryffindor girl knew exactly how to push his buttons, how to skirt around his walls and evade his secluded mind. It seemed so easy for her to infiltrate his nose with her scent, send shivers all over his skin with her sweet little sounds and most importantly to send electric jolts through his body with every single touch of hers.  
And now she’d forced him to eat regularly and on top of it with _her_. Like some sort of normal fucking family would do – never mind the fact the two of them are on the run in the middle of a war.  
It was endearingly annoying and if he could change the situation, change those bizarre _feelings_ , he would without a second of doubt. Because she was deep inside of his head and he didn’t like it. He felt weakened by her. With every step of hers and every possible danger lurking around the corners he felt devoted to protect her. In fact, he felt so devoted to make sure she’s well, that he would forget about himself and – _honestly_ – who was Draco Malfoy without his typical narcissism? Certainly not Draco Malfoy.

He heard her stirring and mumbling something in her sleep, so he walked over and carefully sat down on the side of the bed. Her eyes were twitching around and her brown eyebrows tightened, she simply looked bothered by a dream.

This, for instance. This was one of those moments were, a couple of months ago, he would’ve ignored her or even snarled at her for disturbing him. But now? Now he yearned to lay his hand on her forehead, which he eventually did and then soothingly massaged her uptight brows. Seconds later, she stilled and let out a content air of breath, peacefully continuing her sleep.

It disgusted him. It disgusted him how relieved he felt each time his actions calmed her down. Though it gave him somewhat of an evidence that he wasn’t the only one with a weakness. His touches were calming to her, why exactly he didn’t know, but it obviously stirred something inside of her that gave him at least a little control of their situation. Draco wasn’t used to the feelings he had experienced ever since they were partnered for this mission.  
He knew affection and love by his mother, but even that was always somehow limited. She wasn’t one of those mothers that would constantly tell their children ‘I love you’. She was quieter than others, always reserved and observing. When she would say something, it would be either to teach him manners or teach him the knowledge of their world - how to survive it.

_‘Always keep your demons on a leash, darling. Don’t ever destroy them.’_

For whatever reason, this lesson always stuck with him. They’ll come in handy one day, she’d add. He always wondered as a child when that day would come, but now he knew it wouldn’t take long. They were in the middle of a war against the probably most dangerous wizard of all time. His mother’s prediction would most likely come true soon.

Draco’s father had always been strict and emotionless in front of others. He often wasn’t much different when they were between the three of them, but Draco would sometimes see his father’s hand slip on top of his mother’s whilst reading the news. Or he would see the loving look his father would silently send Narcissa. So many silent gestures were thrown between his parents and Draco had wondered if it were the same when it would just be the two of them.  
Still, it had felt somehow ironical as his father would always preach of the importance of family, yet barely show any affection himself.

Now however, Draco understood. The people you love are a weakness to you. They can be held against you, tortured or killed, only to serve to your enemy’s advantage. The Dark Lord was obviously incapable of love and Draco had seen him use that as an advantage several times.  
Lucius, Draco’s father for example, used to be a dreaded, overconfident and powerful man before. He had never shown any fear towards another wizard, but as the Dark Lord remerged in his recent vessel, Lucius died on the inside. Torture drained Draco’s father of any intelligence and awareness; he looked like a troubled and scared animal with its tail between its legs. His eccentric fidelity towards the older wizard was what shattered their family dynamic. It was for his failure, the Dark Lord would say to reason Lucius’ torture. It was for every single failure Lucius and his family had made, but Draco saw it more of an act of control. The Dark Lord wanted everyone to know that he possessed them, that they belong to him and that there would be no daring to deceive him.  
In a grotesque and twisted way, Lucius’ love towards the Dark Lord had seemed greater than the love towards his own family.

So, Draco ascertained, love was a weakness.  
He wouldn’t say that he’s in love with her, but the path his feelings are taking is surely a direction to it. He doesn’t want it though, it was already hard for him to change sides and join forces with Potter and his repulsive hero complex, so falling in love with the Golden Girl certainly overflowed his cup of fooleries.

With a discontent sigh, Draco stood up from the bed and walked over to the radio to find another station. Granger chose the last one and managed to catch a muggle station she apparently used to listen to when she was at home.

There was this problem as well. She was a muggle-born – a Mudblood – and Draco seemed to love to remind her of it. When they were younger, it always riled her up and angered her, but if he would throw it at her now she would only ignore it. Which, of course, riled him up. There is no logical explanation as to why her anger seemed to satisfy him, well none other than that he’s simply a gruesome man with multiple issues. But lately, that had changed and seeing her sad or angry didn’t have the same kick like it used to.

“Draco?” Her voice was croaky and laced with sleep. It sounded so innocent it almost made his heart vomit.

“I’m here,” he said and her head turned over to him and the radio.

“Any news?”  
He shook his head and fumbled with the radio again with his back to her. He didn’t know how to move around her. It felt like she was watching every step he’d take, even when her eyes weren’t on him. The continually feeling of uncertainty made his blood boil. What became of him? Who is he? Not even a look into a mirror lets him recognize the face he calls his own. This stupidly addictive witch turned him from a selfish and destructive Death Eater into a self-destructive traitor. He doesn’t even want to imagine the look of disappointment and betrayal his mother must have had waking up to his note.  
It was a simple note, nothing personal or sappy, but he just hoped his mother understood the emotions between the lines.

_‘For once, I’ll take care of it. – D’_

She would have never let him go if he’d divulged her in his plans, so he did what she always did to save their family. He would take care of it, like she always did.

He didn’t even notice the now fully awakened witch standing behind him until her gentle voice filled his ears. “Anything new about… you know?”  
‘About your parents’ she’d wanted to ask, he knew it and it disturbed him.

“Why the fuck do you care?” One snap at her and her face turned from empathy to annoyance.  
“I don’t even know why I’m trying,” she mumbled and rolled her eyes. Without asking, she made them coffee and put his mug in front of him. It was almost ritually now; waking up, drinking coffee, eating breakfast, foraging the forests for the essentials, wasting time waiting for orders and then going to bed again. It was nerve-wracking.

“What the bloody fuck takes them so long, the owl should have arrived hours ago.”  
“Maybe there was a delay in something and it took them some time to fix it,” she said, hoping for the best. Of course, always the optimistic Golden Girl.

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and put the empty mug down again. Watching her calmed him in a weird way. How he absorbed the sight of her uncontrolled curls tied into a bun, clearing the sight of her cleavage for him. How badly he wanted to bite into her collarbones, suck on that sweet spot on her neck –

He needed to get out of this tent. Her scent was suffocating him.

Ever since that ridiculous incident three days ago, he couldn’t get stop thinking about her body pressed against his. Her heart had been beating so fast he had felt it against his chest despite their thick clothing.  
He didn’t know why he had pressed himself so close against her. Sure, the Snatchers were just a couple of feet away, but he surely could have let at least a small gap between them? Maybe it was the way the palm of his hand fit so perfectly against her mouth. Maybe it was the way her eyes were blown wide with fear and some other emotion he couldn’t seem to figure out.

Or maybe it was because he’d been trapped in this fucking forest with her for over two weeks now, his hormones forcing his body to react to any kind of friction.

Whatever the reason was, Draco didn’t like that he _liked_ it. He liked the way she was trapped against him and the dirty ground of the forest. Every time he closed his eyes, the frightened look on her face would come up. And as if her jitters would not be enough to arouse him, he wondered what other emotion had lingered in her eyes that moment. Was it disgust? No. It looked more like excitement, but knowing his mind could fool him, Draco didn’t bother with it. Excitement or not – Granger was definitely not interested in him and he had to convince his brain not to come up with other ridiculous scenarios.

Draco shook his head. Some fresh air was supposed to clear his mind but it did nothing else than cloud it even more. He looked around their latest camping spot. They were somewhere in an Irish forest with strong wards that guarded them. Draco would know, it was him and Granger together that raised them. He had to admit they were a great team together, their cleverness merging just perfectly to ensure safety and perfect strategies.

“Draco?” Her voice sounds muffled, she was still in their tent.  
 _Their tent_. How ridiculous that sounds. Draco was about to snap at her for not even giving him a minute without her shrill voice when a flapping sound stopped him. Pulling his wand out in an instant, Draco intensively listened for another sound. Striding backwards to the tent with his wand raised up, he abruptly turned around to enter the tent. A snow-white owl was suddenly right in front of his face and it took Draco everything not to shoot an Avada at it. The owl didn’t even notice his anger, it simply arched its neck to the left, impatiently flapping its wings. It wanted Draco to take the attached scroll off so it could hurry back to where it belonged.

He opened the scroll with a sigh of relieve.

_‘Stay put, we’ll find you soon. -H.’_

“Draco!” Grangers voice irritated him now and he stalked back into the tent after taking the scroll from the owl.

“What the fuck Granger, can’t give me a minute without – “

The voice coming out of the radio stopped him.  
 _“ – and as the war continues,”_ the man in the radio said, _“there will always be the ones that left their lives back so we can go forward.”_ Hermione sat on a small stool, her arms wrapped around her knees as she listened. For a second she looked up at Draco and their eyes met. She was worried, her teeth were biting into her already scraped lips and Draco just hoped she wouldn’t recognize a name.

 _“Today we mourn the known loss of the following brave fighters: Barnaby Fitzgerald.”_ Pause. _“Genevieve and Ella O’Brien.”_ Pause. _“Ian Watson.”_ Pause. _“Winston Phillips.”_ Pause. _“Luna Loveg–“_

Hermione heaved out a sob. The moderator listed other names and Draco listened, waiting for other familiar names to drop. But none did, so he turned back to Hermione and stood there, arms numb at his side. He never had any kind of friendship or whatsoever with Lovegood and despite his previous name callings about the state of her mind, he knew that she did not deserve to die in this war. Hermione though, Hermione was friends with her and Draco didn’t know what to do now. He was scared of touching her, scared of showing affection only to be dismissed by her. His ego wouldn’t survive that. But looking at her – seeing her shoulders heave up and down, her hands gripping her hair as she loudly sobs into her lap – Draco couldn’t just watch. He took a step towards her and kneed down. Without giving it a thought, he laid his right hand on her shoulder and gave it a little comforting squeeze. Her sobbing continued and he was desperate to make It stop.  
So with a little more courage, Draco reached with both arms around her body to lift her up and carry her over to the poor excuse of a bed. He carefully laid her down and managed to peek a glance at her red and tear stained face. The hair on her face was damp and with a gentle touch, he moved them to the side.  
Her face was beautiful. Even with her puffy and red-rimmed eyes, her burning cheeks and her plump and wet lips she looked beautiful. Fucking hell, there was no way he could deny that.

“I’m sorry,” he said because he didn’t know what else to say. She looked at him with these big and sad eyes and he had to restrain himself not to lean down and kiss her. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her right now. But he couldn’t, she wasn’t in her right mind and this was certainly not the right moment for it. So he pulled the blanket over her body and turned around to leave her alone.

“Draco,” her voice sounded hoarse again, but this time it wasn’t from sleeping. He turned to her again and she was looking at him, her eyes rimmed with tears again. “Can you stay? With me?”  
He wanted to scream. He didn’t want to sit and watch her cry, it was crumbling something inside of him. He wanted to leave the tent and blast something.

“Of course,” he said instead and the screeching of the stool echoed through their tent.  
“No, I mean – “ Her cheeks were still burning. “I mean – I want you to – Could you stay with me? Like, here?”

He wanted to rip a tree out of the ground with his bare hands. She couldn’t really mean – ? No. Surely not. He looked at her confused and slightly hopeful. “I don’t know what – Just spit it out Granger.”

“I mean… could you stay here with me. In bed.” He gulped as their eyes held contact. When he didn’t say anything, she turned around and pulled the covers over her head. “Never mind, you can go.”

But Draco didn’t want to go. He wanted to know how it would feel like to lay next to her. He wanted to know how her body would feel under his hands. He wanted to know how her hair would smell like sprawled all over his face. He wanted to know so many things about their bodies pressed together –

– so he slowly lifted the covers and laid down behind her. The weight on the mattress made her still, but when he was fully behind her, arms awkwardly between them under the covers, she grabbed his right arm and placed it around her stomach.  
Draco was panicking. He had no idea how to act and what to do, but he supressed the urge to run off again and instead squeezed her. She automatically coiled back into his arms, their bodies now fully pressed together.  
And if Draco took a breath of her smell, he didn’t show.

He woke up to soft skin pressed against his collarbone, and for a moment he thought he was still dreaming. But it felt too real. So he opened his eyes and caught his breath. She was lightly nipping on his collarbones and her hands were placed on his chest. He could practically feel the burning heat of her hands through his pullover.  
When she noticed him waking up, she simply looked up into his eyes, her own filled with desire and lust, and she leaned up and –

“Kiss me.” She breathed out and he felt her breath against his lips. “Kiss me, please.”

And Draco’s mind was filled with questions, filled with hope and caution. Did she really mean this? Does she really want him to kiss her? She wouldn’t manipulate him, would she? No, Draco thought, she wouldn’t. But she’s grieving and maybe this was just a way for her cope with it. But to him, it wasn’t. To him it was so much more, so much more he wanted than just this one kiss. He wanted more, he wanted more kisses for every fucking day, he wanted her for himself and _only_ himself. He wanted all of her.

But Draco was weak. He was weak when it came to her. So obviously, he didn’t say anything, he didn’t question anything. If this is all he got, he would take it.

So he leaned down and their lips met. And it was so much more than he’d ever imagined. He felt her emotions racing through his body. He felt her gasp, her sigh, her moan. All of it went right through his mouth into his body.  
He felt invincible. He felt everything at once and hoped she felt it too.

Heat filled the room and Hermione crawled on top of him. She shed her thick pullover and her hands instantly went to get rid of his as well. Draco was overwhelmed, the feelings he was experiencing were different than he had expected. He’s touched women before, he definitely was no virgin anymore, yet those sparks igniting with every touch got him confused and nervous. Why did he crave her so much? Why was she so special all of sudden? It didn’t make any sense to him, but thinking was quite hard with her almost nakedly on top of him.

“Draco,” she whimpered against his mouth. Her hands were fumbling with his pants. “Please just– Would you please –?”  
That snapped him out of trance. He quickly helped her to get rid of his pants and noticed hers to be long gone already.

He breathed out and couldn’t believe the sight in front of him. She was straddling him, each leg on the other side of his hips, and her hair was pure chaos. It was tousled in every direction and even though he always used to make fun of it, it looked _fucking beautiful_ right now. Her lips were swollen by their kisses and her eyes looked dull. There was sadness in them but it was hidden behind the lust. Her breasts were covered by a bra which was so thin he could see her hard nipples through it. Draco swallowed and continued looking at her. She was so much more than he’d ever imagined and honestly it scared him.  
Draco wasn’t used to feel like this for her – for anyone – and he was just so close to panicking because she was sitting right on top of him and she wanted him – _him_ – for fucks sake and he never thought this would actually happen but now it is and he didn’t know if it was right because she was _grieving_ for fucks sake so couldn’t just –

– Draco sighed and grabbed her hands away from the waistband of his boxers.  
“What – Draco?” She whimpered again and looked confused. It broke his heart because he wanted this so badly as well. But he couldn’t, not like this.

“We shouldn’t,” he started and squeezed her fingers. “You should get some more sleep, it’s still dark outside.”

It was like he told her that she was disgusting because she instantly coiled back her hands. His hands felt so cold all of sudden. “Why?” She demanded. “I can feel you wanting this just as I do, so why the fuck not Malfoy?”  
He tried not to blush crimson at her indication of his hard on pressed under her arse and shook his head. “I don’t want it like this. I don’t want to… to sleep with you when you’re in this state.”

She chuckled humourlessly. “Oh, I’m so fucking sorry I’m not beautiful enough –“

“That’s not what I meant –“

“Of course, that’s what you meant. You think I’m disgusting, all cried up like this. I thought this would turn you on even more Malfoy. Doesn’t it satisfy you to see me like this –?”

“Fucking hell Granger, stop this shit,” he barked and her eyes rimmed with tears again. She tried to get off of his lap but he held her there. “You have no fucking idea how much I want this so don’t pretend to know what I want and what I don’t want.”

“Then why won’t you just sleep with me? I’m in a right state of mind to know that I want this, so stop patronizing me.” She sniffed.

“Because –“ Fuck, was he really going to do this now? “Because I don’t want you to regret it after.” It seemed like he did. “I don’t this to be a one time thing because – fucking hell, Granger – I have no idea why but I like this. Us.”

Her eyes were wide open and her mouth parted slightly in shock. Oh how badly he wanted to kiss and bite those lips again.

“We can pretend like nothing happened, you can act like I didn’t say any of this and the moment this mission is over you can –“

She stopped him with a kiss. And then another. And then another. She stopped him with several kisses for seconds, minutes or even hours – he had no idea how long they had been kissing when their lips parted again and she smiled against his mouth.

“You’re an idiot, do you know that?”

“What?” He gasped, still trying to comprehend what just happened.

“I’ve been sending you signals ever since that incident with the Snatchers. How can you be so smart yet so oblivious?” Her grin caused a heat in his stomach and he just wanted to wrap her in his arms.

“Fuck, are you serious?”

She laughed and leaned down again, but not to kiss him. She leaned down to nuzzle her head into the crook of his neck and he instantly wrapped his arms around her to keep her close. Because now he actually _could_.

“I’m sorry I nearly forced you to have sex with me.”

Draco grinned. “I felt so objectified.” She laughed at him and his heart burst.

They fell asleep again, both contently clinging onto the other. It was one of their deepest sleeps they’ve had in a while now, and it was very needed indeed.  
The next morning, Hermione woke Draco up with a small breakfast in bed and a mug of coffee. When she dipped her finger into the marmalade and sucked it off, he balled his fists and swallowed. When she _accidently_ dropped some marmalade right between her breasts, he growled. _Oops_ , she had said – _fucking ‘Oops’_ – and he surged forward to lick it off.

They slept together, five and a half times, before hunger took over and forced them to eat properly.  
“Ah,” Draco remembered, “the owl arrived yesterday. We’re supposed to stay here and they’ll catch up with us soon.” Reality will catch up with them, he thinks and his mood instantly falls. Hermione must have noticed it, because she leans over to him and places her hand on top of his knee.

“Nothing’s going to change that, Draco. At least not for me,” she nervously bit her lip and looked up at him through her lashes.

He smiles, a genuine one for the first time in a while, and pulls her hand to his mouth. “I’m glad we’re on the same page then. What do you think should we do now? After all, we probably still have so much time left until they’ll be here.”

With a laugh, Hermione let herself be hauled up in his arms and thrown on the bed with him falling right on top of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos appreciated x


End file.
